


Alive Right Now

by sleepdeprivedwriter



Series: Alive Right Now [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Biological Son, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, POV Outsider, Parent Alexander Hamilton, Parent Thomas Jefferson, i feel bad for burr, well its burr but anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdeprivedwriter/pseuds/sleepdeprivedwriter
Summary: A series of misinterpretations leads Burr to believe that Alexander is terminally ill.Though his life is about to change forever, Alexander is not dying.Alternatively: Thomas and Alexander are about to become parents and Aaron Burr isn't very good at piecing things together.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Series: Alive Right Now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867357
Comments: 16
Kudos: 175





	Alive Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> i had the idea for this and couldn't rest until i finished writing it lmao.

Alexander Hamilton was acting odd. Odder than usual, at least. 

The Levi Weeks case - dubbed the _Manhattan Well Murder_ by the forever uninventive press - wasn’t the first case that Burr and Hamilton had been assigned to as co-counsels. It was, however, the most publicised. Journalists loitered outside of their firm every day for months leading up to the trial, desperate for whatever scraps of commentary could be gathered from the lawyers and twisted to fit whatever narrative was popular that week.

Burr, of course, was never one to humour the media by answering their entrapping questions but Alexander always was. He had the ability to deconstruct their arguments, twist their words against them in a way that left reporters scrambling to answer him coherently. Burr envied him for that ability, but didn’t envy his irrational need to keep fighting when it did little good to their cause. 

It was because Burr was so used to this character flaw of Hamilton’s that it puzzled him greatly when Alexander would leave the building as quietly as Burr himself would, with a simple nod and no more in the direction of the news cameras.

The second thing that Burr noted about Alexander’s strange behaviour was the absence of the smirk that had so often pervaded his face. Alexander was never not smirking, it was his signature. When he battled Jefferson in the conference room, it sat smugly on his face as if to say _I’m going to win this, you know it and I know it._ You could tell he was working something out in his mind when he was smirking. He wrote alone in his office with the same confidence he debated with, the same confidence he flirted with the Schuyler sisters at the annual office Christmas party with. The smirk had faded though. There was a softness to the smirk now. It didn’t have the harsh narcissism attached to it that it once had. It had _almost_ shifted into what could be described as a small smile. Burr noticed it especially when Alexander checked his phone every five minutes (which was also out of character for the man) during their case debriefs.

Hamilton’s lack of confrontation with the media didn’t translate over to his work on the case. Burr would construct one defence, Hamilton would tear it apart. Hamilton would build another, Burr would roll his eyes and call him impossible. As more about the man changed, it comforted Burr that some things didn’t. 

Burr didn’t like to think of himself as a suspicious man, but the sum of Alexander’s behaviour set off alarm bells in his head. The closer they got to the trial, the odder he became. What Burr had originally thought was perhaps a much-needed growth in maturity, now worried him. 

Alexander had become distracted. Not to the point that it affected his work (nothing ever affected his work) but distracted enough that he picked up the habits of the other lawyers - i.e. normal people - in meetings and around the office. His coffee breaks elongated themselves as he chatted ( _c_ _ivilly,_ at that) with his coworkers in the break-room. Where Alexander previously took extensive notes during meetings of no importance to his own career, he now daydreamed through them. Not once would he pipe up to inappropriately interject into conversations he didn’t need to. Burr stared across the room at his colleague, trying to find anything in his appearance or demeanour that would provide him with some sort of explanation of what the fuck was going on. 

The explanation came one day just weeks before they were set to go to trial. Their meeting had run late and Burr thought he’d stay around in the office for just a little bit longer to go over some final details by himself. ( _God, now he was starting to act like Hamilton._ ) He texted Theodosia to tell her he’d bring them take-out when he was finished. He’d grab them curry, he decided, and he’d let her pick a movie they could watch together in their living room as they ate. If he was lucky, she’d massage his shoulders as they talked about their days at work and she’d humour him by listening to the details of the case. 

Smiling at the thought of a much-needed evening in with his wife, Burr hurried to finish the edits to his opening statement and turned off the lights to his office. The firm was pitch black - everyone, including the receptionists, having left hours ago. He used his phone’s flashlight to navigate his way out. As Burr neared his boss’ office, he was shocked to see a light casting a dim glow out of its windows into the hallway. 

Burr frowned. What the hell was George Washington doing in his office at 9:30pm on a Thursday? The sight he witnessed as he slyly glanced through the small window confused him further. Hamilton sat across from the older man, the back of his head moving animatedly. He must have been recounting some sort of story. Washington looked at him with ruminant eyes, his brows furrowed though not coldly. 

Of all things he possibly expected, Burr was not prepared to witness his boss burst into tears at whatever Hamilton had told him. The older man’s cries only amplified when Hamilton walked around the desk to embrace him tightly. Washington’s hand came up to grasp the back of the man’s head like a parent holding his child and - oh God, Burr was definitely intruding.

“Alexander,” Washington choked out. “I seem to be at a loss for words.”

Burr turned sharply on his heel and walked briskly to the elevator where he was originally headed. Whatever Hamilton had revealed to Washington, it wasn’t good. It also wasn’t any of Burr’s business so he wouldn’t let it bother him too much. 

Alexander had begun to frequently leave work early (well, early by his standards which really meant with everyone else at the normal time) for “appointments,” as he put them. Of all people in the office - no, in the _world_ \- for Alexander to get to drive him to his appointments, Burr was admittedly slightly offended that the man had chosen Jefferson to ask this favour. Everyone knew how much they hated each other. Hell, Burr would have driven Alexander himself if it was really such an issue that he had to ask _Jefferson_ to go with him to these things. 

Unsurprisingly, Burr wasn’t the only one to notice Hamilton’s change in persona. They were on break during day six of the trial. Burr mused that the trial probably wouldn’t go on for much longer as the prosecutors were doing a royally bad job at presenting their limited evidence. It wasn’t Seabury and Lee’s fault that Burr and Hamilton were, admittedly, the legal dream team of New York. 

Any hostility held at the other side during the trial didn’t usually linger as they went on recess. When it came down to it - defence or prosecution - they were all just lawyers doing their job. Thus, there were very little hard feelings as Seabury, Burr, and Lee went for lunch together in the court’s cafeteria. Hamilton was invited but “had an important call to take, thanks.” 

James Madison had joined the men as he was also on break, albeit for a different case.

“Hamilton’s been odd recently, hasn’t he?” Lee proposed to the table as he took a bite of his somewhat revolting-looking tuna wrap. “It’s not just me who’s seen it, right?” 

“No, no, you’re right,” Seabury nodded. “I’ve noticed too. He’s been… nearly tolerable recently.”

The men all chuckled at that, unable to deny its truth. 

“What do you suppose is going on with the guy?” 

“Divorce, maybe?”

“Hamilton’s not married,” Madison was quick to add.

“I’ll put $20 on a new girlfriend.”

Burr glanced at Madison who was hiding a careful smirk behind a coffee mug. “I’ll take you up on that,” he stuck out his hand for Seabury to shake.

For some reason, Burr agreed with Madison on that guess as being false.

“Burr, what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Lee looked over at him.

Burr shrugged and gave him a smile. “Who knows?”

Burr thought that something was wrong. 

Burr thought that Alexander was sick.

His theory was further proven on the day of their closing arguments - day thirty-eight of the trial, to Burr’s dismay. The prosecution had finished and they were on a short recess before Hamilton was meant to present their closing argument to wrap up why Mr. Weeks was innocent. However, minutes before, Hamilton had disappeared. The son-of-a-bitch was missing, gone without a word to Burr. Burr began to panic. The court clerk, Peggy Schuyler, gave him a sympathetic look as she approached him carefully. 

“Mr. Hamilton had to leave unexpectedly, he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry but he needs you to present the closing statement.” 

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Peggy awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. Unease bubbled in Burr’s stomach. Was the man alright? Had something happened to him? 

Hamilton wasn’t one to abandon ship, so to say. Hamilton had once told him that he had come too far to do anything other than to dedicate his all - and then some - to his work. Burr had respected that, as crazy as the man was. Something was most definitely wrong. 

Burr didn’t see Alexander until after the verdict was presented a week later - Weeks was acquitted, thank you very much - back in the firm.

Alexander was in his office and, for once, he wasn’t working. He put a few things into a small box stuck under his arm - some photo frames, a few files, the dead succulent that for some reason sat on his desk despite the fact that Burr hadn’t seen it alive in years.

Burr walked through the already open door. 

“Alexander?”

The other man made a noise and looked up.

“Burr, what can I do for you?”

“I was…” He lost his train of thought as he stared at his long-time co-worker. The man had dark purple rings around his eyes, his dress shirt was crinkled badly, and he was smiling? That was odd. Burr never expected a man like Alexander Hamilton to be content with an early demise. He looked no more sickly than usual, so maybe this had been going on for some time. Though it was very unlike Hamilton to keep virtually anything to himself. Burr shook his head. “I was just wondering if you needed a help with the box…”

Alexander laughed. “I’ve got it, but thanks.”

“So, um…” Burr awkwardly trailed off. 

Alexander lifted the box slightly. “What’s this, you mean to ask?”

Burr could feel his face heat up slightly and he cleared his throat.

“I’m going on leave.”

Burr nodded slowly, for some reason suddenly unable to make eye contact.

“Don’t miss me too much, hey?” Alexander slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled.

“Take care of yourself, Alexander.”

“Unlikely, considering the circumstances,” he snorted and Burr sighed. 

Only Alexander could be so blasé about his own impending death. 

Adams had announced at a company meeting that Hamilton would be taking a year off for “personal reasons” which of course, ignited the office rumour mill. 

“Knowing Alexander, he’s probably off doing legal work abroad or something. Nothing is ever enough for that man, he has to keep moving onto his newest idea.”

“I heard that he wants to write a book.”

“Oh, _God.”_

“Right?”

Burr ignored the majority of his co-workers’ ridiculous ideas for why Alexander was leaving. It seemed that none of them analysed the signs like he did, put the pieces Alexander unintentionally laid out into the puzzle they made up.

Burr didn’t see Alexander for months after that day the man was packing his things. 

Not until he showed up at the firm one day, unannounced, and waved at the lawyers through the conference room windows during a midday meeting. They had paused the mid-quarter financial meeting momentarily for Washington to step out of room to take a phone call and the team was awaiting his return. 

As if the sight of Alexander wasn’t shocking enough, the sight of Alexander with a baby on his hip sent Burr into a frozen state of astonishment.

Alexander looked tired. Very tired. But at the same time, the happiest Burr had ever seen him. He wore a grey sweater and jeans, a far cry from the slightly misfitting suits Burr was used to seeing him in. He had a leather satchel - a diaper bag, Burr thought - slung across his body. He held the child in his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him, and maybe it was. 

If Burr had been paying attention to the other lawyers in the room, he would have noticed Jefferson light up and elbow Madison grinning.

“There’s my lunch,” Burr would have heard him say with a laugh. 

Burr only saw Jefferson as he joined Hamilton outside of the room, closing the door gently behind him. 

Hamilton said something while handing him the baby and Jefferson let out a loud laugh that carried through the glass walls separating them and their co-workers. Jefferson brushed his hand over the baby’s head, kissing him softly. 

“Daddy forgot his lunch, Pip,” Burr could make out.

“Yes, because Daddy is an idiot.”

Jefferson shot his supposed-rival a glare, but Burr could see behind both of their expressions that neither meant it. 

Jefferson stepped closer to Alexander and glanced directly at Burr - who admittedly was perhaps staring - before holding the papers in his non-child-filled hand over his and Hamilton’s faces as he leaned in. Burr looked away faster than he thought possible and coughed awkwardly. Holy shit. Suddenly, the firm’s financial debriefing file in front of him looked fascinating. 

Praying he wouldn’t see Thomas Jefferson’s tongue down anyone’s throat, Burr glimpsed up after a moment. The baby - Pip, as Thomas had called him - was back in Alexander’s arms. The men were talking quietly to each other and Burr couldn’t help but wonder how he hadn’t figured the situation out earlier. It made sense, all of a sudden. 

“Was I the only one who had no idea about… that?” He quietly asked the other lawyers in the room with him.

“No,” Adams and an intern Burr had never seen before said as everyone else said otherwise.

“His kid is my nephew,” Madison said bluntly. 

“You clearly don’t follow Alex on Twitter. He tweets about Philip every five minutes, I’m not even kidding,” Angelica Schuyler didn’t look up from her phone. 

Burr defensively grabbed his phone to check and, yeah, she wasn’t wrong. 

_@aham: back in the ol’ office with el bebe to bring phil’s dad his lunch. never thought i’d be able to say that, woah._

_(3 mins ago)_

Now, Burr really felt like an idiot. 

Back from his phone call, Washington actually _smiled_ at his employees and their baby.

“How’s my grandson?” The man took Philip from Alexander’s arms and laughed. Washington’s broad frame holding the tiny child was an odd sight to see any day but Burr’s jaw physically dropped at the words his boss was saying. “Son, I’ve missed having you around the office every day.”

He slung an arm around Alexander’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Burr could see Alexander slightly lean into the embrace. 

“I’ve missed being here. I mean, I love spending all day with him, but I love work too.”

Thomas snorted at his partner. “You’ve just missed having an excuse to argue with me.”

“Maybe.”

George shook his head at Philip. “Your fathers are certainly an interesting pair, aren’t they?”

“We’ll have to bring him over for some time with his grandparents soon,” Thomas added.

“Martha and I would like that very much.”

“Well, I should bring this guy home,” Alexander took Philip out of his father’s hands. “It’s past nap-time.”

“For you or the baby?”

“Oh, shut up, Thomas.” Alexander leaned in to quickly peck his partner and Washington (and Burr) averted their eyes. “Bye, Dad. We’ll see you this weekend.”

“See you at home, _bien-aimé_ ,” Thomas patted Alexander’s waist and Burr couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“Goodbye, son.” Washington turned to Thomas and his tone drastically changed. “Jefferson, I believe we’re keeping others waiting.” 

Burr almost laughed at how curt Washington was with his son-in-law but he restrained himself.

“Of course, sir.” Jefferson hurried back into the boardroom and took his seat sheepishly. 

Burr leaned back in his chair as he watched Hamilton and his son leave. 

Perhaps he wasn’t as good at observing others as he thought he was. Or maybe it was simply that he wasn’t good drawing conclusions from those observations. 

Either way, Aaron Burr had severely miscalculated the happenings of his co-workers’ personal lives.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, burr... 
> 
> i love fics with g. wash as alex's dad so had to squeeze that in there too lol. 
> 
> thinking about writing something else within this universe (or just jamilton as parents) but not sure quite what that would be (any suggestions are very welcome ;) )
> 
> anyway let me know what you think in the comments!! :)


End file.
